Placid Peaks

Heat flamed from a crimson coil
and stagnating water evolved
into steam.
the tomb that held it captive
burnt to a charcoal black
but the steam escaped.
much like the girl who ran
not to a place, but from
the darkness that entombed her
instead of seeking a safe sanctuary
she moved to uncover an ocean
that would gift her a palpable salt
and burn old tastes from her tongue
but her appetite – infinitely insatiable –
then discovered other orifices
in need of packing
chalk-full
of synthetic love
because anything real would have destroyed her.
Anything
except the placid peaks of mountains – East Coast
lovers of the space far above
solid ground.
she let waves of folk songs
                                             and stretches of tree-lined highways
                                                                                                                   sooth her whimsy
until a new fear
of clustered memories
birthing a snarling beast
haunted the trail she walked
                       so the girl ran deep
                       through the mud of an unbeaten path
                       and only stopped to sprawl in the healing light
                       of a half moon run
                                                                                     it was here that she heard a familiar voice hiss
                                                                                     “come home little lamb”
And to that she could only reply
“you have no idea what you have done to my soul”
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s